


Unexpected Guest

by Leaves_Crown



Category: Tennis no Oujisama | Prince of Tennis
Genre: Exchange Student, Falling In Love, Getting Together, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-05-27
Updated: 2014-08-19
Packaged: 2017-12-13 03:29:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,662
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/819437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Leaves_Crown/pseuds/Leaves_Crown
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b>Next time:</b> Shiraishi has thought a lot about Fuji since their match, but figured there was little he could do about it. Until Fuji shows up at Shitenhouji.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

“Hey!”

Oshitari Kenya was waving a bunch of forms at him from across the hallway on a particularly hot Friday afternoon. “Shiraishi, you should…!”

But Shiraishi never found out what it was exactly that he should do, because a sudden stampede of about thirty girls hurrying to their sumo class crashed into Kenya, throwing him right out of sight.

Shiraishi sauntered to his drama class. "Shakespeare in Space", the upcoming play was called. Shiraishi had to admit that this was strange even for Shitenhouji.

Most of his classmates were sitting in a circle already, surrounding their drama teacher, Hitouji’s aunt. Five minutes later, right as she was explaining how fitting it would be to have Portia cut open an alien and prove it had no flesh at all, Kenya came in. His lips were swollen and his shirt torn at the collar. He was still holding those forms though and waving them at Shiraishi.

“Oshitari-kun, you undoubtedly have something important to share with Shiraishi-kun, but your entrance is rather unconventional,” their teacher said. “I’d like to have a word with you after class about your next role.”

“Sorry,” Kenya let out sheepishly.

Shiraishi had gotten interested, though. Their drama teacher was one of the strictest in the school and Kenya usually didn’t risk punishment like that.

When they were both asked to act as background aliens, Shiraishi whispered: “What is it?”

“You remember the exchange program?” Oshitari whispered.

“Not really, what about it?”

They were separated before the other boy could explain as he had to run up and offer combat with a Blue-faced Romeo.

After he was killed with a few quick smashes of a light-saber, Shiraishi helped him get up. “International students?”

“Nah, from Tokyo. Coach arranged it, in the spirit of friendship or something. Three of ours and two of them are changing places for a month. Only top students of course, so they don’t risk having their schoolwork disrupted.”

“So, your cousin is coming?” Shiraishi asked.

“Yuushi? Ha! Is far too comfortable with his fanclub over there. No, it’s gonna be…”

“Oshitari-kun!!”

Kenya swallowed and slowly turned around to face their teacher.

“Yes, miss?”

“You will volunteer to paint the décor this afternoon.”

Dejected, he made a short bow. “Understood.”

After that, they didn’t dare talk anymore, and Shiraishi made it to practice without him.

His coach was lying on the bench, browsing through a magazine with Indian recipes. “You lead today?” he asked Shiraishi, without looking up.

“Sure. Is Chitose coming?”

The man shrugged. “Had some kind of business.”

“Ah, I see.”

“There’s something else though, one of…”

But before his coach could finish, Kintaro came running up to them. “Koshimae!!!”

“Calm dow-ooof.”

Kintaro had crashed into him, shaking his uncovered arm excitedly. “Koshimae gave me a tennis ball.”

“Echizen?” Shiraishi tried to preen the boy off him. “Is he the exchange student?”

“I’m afraid it’s only me.”

Shiraishi turned around sharply at the sound of that voice. Fuji Syusuke was looking up at him with his blue eyes. Adrenaline rushed through Shiraishi’s body.

“Oh,” he let out finally.

“I hope it’s not a bother if I attend practice. I know I’m from a rival school, but I can not afford to get out of form. Please understand my situation.”

And then Fuji made a light bow, smiling pleasantly.

“No, no,” Shiraishi said, getting over his surprise. “But I hope it will suit you. Our style is different from yours.”

“I don’t mind,” Fuji said. “I gained great respect for your school during the nationals, not in the least because of our match. I’m looking forward to learning some of your secrets.”

The compliment made Shiraishi smile, but he didn’t tell Fuji how much their match had affected him. “By all means then.”

He called all members to attention and assigned them different tasks. It was strange how nervous he felt all of a sudden, Shitenhouji had nothing to apologize for. Still, he didn’t leave the students the kind of freedom they usually had. Someone who was training under Tezuka Kunimitsu would find their methods probably less than conventional.

Luckily, Fuji was good-natured enough to go with the flow. Shitenhouji’s students, on the other hand, were all eyeing him suspiciously. It had not been forgotten that it had been Seigaku who had robbed them of a place in the finals.

Two juniors were standing near the gate, whispering together and sometimes snickering. From the way they kept glaring at Fuji, it was obvious their ridicule was directed at him.

“30 laps, all of you,” Shiraishi balked.

His teammates all moved to look at him, frozen on the spot.

“What?” Zaizen looked confused. “Around the court?”

“But buchou!” Kintaro came running up, waving his arm. “I was just going to show Fuji-san my new technique, look!”

And at that Kintaro threw up three balls, jumped after them and spun through the air, while hitting all of them in different directions. While two just bounced against the fence, one hit a small basket with fruit that Yuuji had left on the court. It turned and grapes fell out.

“Hey brat! That was for Koharu!”

“For me?” Their most intelligent team-member crossed his arms. “You know I don’t like grapes! Is it any wonder I broke up with you?”

This of course was followed by protestations and wailing from his partner.

Shiraishi greatly regretted coming up with ordering them to do laps. It had been a sudden inspiration, as he knew it was practice at Seigaku when things went too crazy. He should have known it was never going to work here.

He risked a glance at Fuji. The boy was snickering. Shiraishi had seldom felt so embarrassed.

“I told you we do things differently here,” he said defensively. “Maybe it is a little too weird for you.”

Fuji smiled. “Actually, when we run laps, we are always faced with having to drink Inui’s Juices if we do badly. Ingredients vary from Beetles’ wings to grinded shark teeth.”

“Really?” Shiraishi began to smile. “How about poison?”

“That too perhaps.”

“Wow! Did you ever drink it?”

“I seem to be the only one who developed a fondness for them,” Fuji commented. “I’m looking forward to see what he comes up with during my absence.”

“You’re kidding,” Shiraishi said, but something in Fuji’s expression told him this was not the case. Seigaku apparently had some peculiar habits too. It made him feel better now about some of the outlandish things that went on at Shitenhouji.

“You are interested in poison, I heard?” Fuji asked him then.

“Only plants, animal poison is not nearly as fascinating to me. Did you know that in the Amazon, they just discovered…”

“Yes, Buchou. We all know,” Zaizen cut in. “I think the whole of Osaka knows with the way you have been going on about it.”

“Well, I just came from Tokyo,” Fuji pointed out. “So, I hope you can enlighten me some day.”

Koharu now made his way over. “Fuji-kun, shall we go? You still need to unpack.”

“Eh?” Shiraishi looked from one to the other.

“Didn’t Kenya tell you?” Koharu asked, leering at Seigaku’s prodigy. “Fuji-san is staying with me.”

Shiraishi frowned. Fuji would have to deal with those two for a whole month. Why hadn’t Kenya told him about this exchange before? He would have been glad to house Fuji himself.

“Thank you for letting me train here,” Fuji then said. “Perhaps you would show me your poisonous plants tomorrow? Inui told me you have an impressive collection.”

“Yes, of course. Koharu knows where I live. What time?” Shiraishi asked, perhaps a little too eagerly.

Fuji smiled. “Would three be okay?”

“Sure!”

“See you then.” Fuji picked up his things and with a last wave, Koharu and he walked off the court.

Shiraishi was still smiling when Kenya finally made it to practice. “What are you so happy about?”

“Nothing,” he said quickly. “How about detention?”

Kenya looked a little suspicious, but then began to complain about their teacher, with some ‘Yuushi said…’ and ‘Yuushi would never…’ thrown in as usual, until he asked: “Hey! Did you see Fuji already?”

“He will joining us for practice from now on. Why didn’t you tell me he was going to come?”

“Just slipped my mind,” Kenya answered and then grinned. “He’s staying with Koharu, poor guy.”

Shiraishi had the impression this was done on purpose as a sort of bizarre punishment for Seigaku beating them, and his good mood dissipated. The last thing he wanted was for Fuji to feel ill at ease in Osaka.

“Fine, practice is over!” Shiraishi suddenly shouted. “Get ready for the ranking matches next week!”

“Is Koshimae coming too, Buchou?” Kintaro yelled.

“I doubt it.”

“Aw.”

The boy looked so disappointed that he couldn’t help by smile. “You can play Fuji instead. I guess he’d be happy to face you.”

“Cool!”

Yes, very cool.

While Shiraishi walked home, he let his mind go over his match with Fuji. He had seen how the other boy had evolved during it. The way he had risen to the occasion when met with such adversity. And then he had seen him in the finals, when Fuji had already been a level above what he had faced.

After that, he had thought about Fuji often. He would have loved to play a game against him, alone, with nobody watching and nothing at stake but the thrill of the match. He had dismissed this idea, since Fuji lived so far away, but now…

Shiraishi lay awake longer than usual that night, staring at the ceiling. For weeks after the match, flashes of that match had gone through his mind. It wasn’t just the game, but also Fuji’s intense looks, his shirt flying up as he jumped and finally, his small hand in his own at the end of the match that still lingered in his memory. And like so many nights, Shiraishi’s hand disappeared under his waistband. He touched himself picturing Fuji beneath him, naked and whispering his name.

The next day he tended to his plants and cat. He had some drama homework, but he got help from his younger sister, who was very apt at unfolding a fan in the proper way.

“So you beat this Fuji-san, right?” Yukari asked, after he finally managed to do well.

“Yeah.”

“Then, what’s the big deal?” She put the fan down on a table and looked at him expectedly.

“Who said it’s a big deal? I just think he’s a nice guy.”

“Oh. Isn’t he from Seigaku?”

The expression in her face made it clear she resented them about as much as some of his team mates did.

“They are not so bad. There are a lot worse than them in the Nationals.”

“If you say so…”

Shiraishi glanced at the clock. It was almost three. “Listen Yukari, when he’s here, please don’t be rude, okay?”

She crossed her arms and sat down on the sofa. “Fine! But I won’t like him!”

The doorbell rang and with a last warning look at his sister, Shiraishi stood up to answer it.

In the middle of a discussion about wigs, Koharu and Yuuji kicked of their shoes first. Yuuji put down a big bag filled with masks. Fuji appeared behind them, wearing a white shirt and black pants, looking nice.

“Please come in,” Shiraishi offered and then handed him a pair of blue slippers.

“You got some juice?” Yuuji called. “Koharu’s thirsty.”

“Just get some from the fridge,” Shiraishi said. Then he looked at Fuji sympathetically. “Sorry that they put you with them.”

“I don’t mind. I rather like their routines.”

“Yeah, Fuji is our new fan,” Koharu said proudly. “He’s going to help us prepare for a comedy competition.”

Shiraishi brought Fuji into the living room. “This is my sister Yukari.”

Her scowl made way for surprise when she saw Fuji. “You’re from Seigaku!?”

“I hope you don’t mind,” he said with a smile, and then made a light bow for her. “My name is Fuji Syusuke.”

“But I… I heard you were all monsters!”

“Ah, you must have been talking to Kintaro-kun. Koshimae is just one of my team-mates, the rest of us are more or less people.”

Yukari uncrossed her arms. “How old are you?”

“The same age as your brother.”

“Really? You’re so…” She didn’t finish her sentence.

Fuji nodded. “I guess I’m not as tall and strong as he.”

Her scowl returned, but was now aimed at her brother. “Did you hurt Fuji-san?”

“Only my pride,” Fuji answered and with this he smiled at Shiraishi, who chose to look away.

Koharu and Yuuji returned, both holding a glass of juice.

“Hey Yukari-chan, do you want to see our new routine?” Yuuji asked.

His sister stood up, then looked from Fuji to the two boys. “I think I’ll go with my brother and Fuji-san.”

Shiraishi chuckled. “You hate my garden.”

“No, I don’t!” she let out, glaring at her brother. “I want to see that new eh…”

“Plant from the Amazon?” Yuuji asked. “Did you get it?”

“Nope, it’s very rare. I doubt I will ever see it,” Shiraishi said.

“Come on,” Kohari said to Yukari and then gave a sly look at Shiraishi. “I think your brother wants to talk to Fuji a little.”

She looked so disappointed that Fuji bowed at her. “I’m sorry, perhaps we can all have ice cream together sometime.”

This made her beam at Seigaku’s prodigy. “Sure.”

“Okay, Fuji. Let’s go.”

As Yukari and the two comedians made ready to go outside, Shiraishi led Fuji up the stairs.

“I think my sister has a crush on you,” he said, as they made their way to the roof.

“You two get along well?” Fuji asked.

“We fight sometimes, but nothing bad.” Shiraishi opened the wooden door that led to his garden.

Fuji’s eyes opened. “This is amazing!”

“It’s just a small collection,” Shiraishi said, smiling proudly.

When Fuji got closer to his Yellow Azalea, he reached for it with his finger and then pulled it back. “It’s beautiful, but I guess I shouldn’t touch it?”

“There are a few you shouldn’t sniff at. I put them at the back,” Shiraishi said. He suddenly imagined Fuji smelling his Rhododendron Tomentosum, and getting sick. “Eh, don’t go there.”

But Fuji’s attention was drawn by his Alpenroses. “You have quite a lot of these.”

“I breed them myself,” Shiraishi said. “Do you like them?”

“They are very pretty. Their flowers look a little like those of one of my cacti.”

“When you go back to Tokyo, you can take a few of them with you,” Shiraishi offered.

“Thank you.” Fuji looked up at him for a few moments with those deep blue eyes.

“Well, ehm,” Shiraishi said, just to say something. “How’s your brother doing?”

“He’s been home more lately. My sister is teaching him how to cook.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Shiraishi said. “Is she in High School?”

“She already graduated from University, she has her own business.”

Shiraishi whistled. “Sounds cool. What kind of business?”

“Divination,” Fuji said, studying his Chinese Wisterias. “These are nice too.”

“Actually, these can kill whole forests. They destroy trees. Because of them the light that shines on the plants underneath changes, so the whole landscape does.” Fuji didn’t flinch from the plant as most people had when he told them this. He stopped himself from going into a monologue about his plants, since his teammates had made it very clear how boring they found this.

Fuji straightened himself and then laid a hand on his bandages. “So, is it true what they say about your arm?”

“What do they say?”

“Many different things, actually. One that you have rubbed Arsenicum on it to immunize yourself against poison, but that it destroyed your arm.”

“Did Inui-kun make you ask this?” Shiraishi asked, without pulling away from Fuji’s touch.

“I can’t deny that he asked me to find out, but I’m pretty curious myself.”

Before he could reply, somebody started screaming. He looked over the edge of the roof. Down in the normal garden, Koharu was lying in some of the plants, seemingly passed out. Yuuji was fanning him. Yukari just looked on with a frown on her face.

“What are you doing?” Shiraishi yelled.

“It’s Koharu!” Yuuji seemed ready to pass out himself.

Shiraishi ran downstairs, only to find Koharu sitting up on the grass, Yuuji still fussing over him.

Instead of checking on them, he kneeled next to the flower. One seemed particularly damaged. “Idiot, they are my mother’s!”

“I’m sorry,” Koharu said, genuine for once. “The breathing holes in this mask are too small. I just fainted.”

“Great.” Shiraishi scowled.

“Are they rare?” Koharu whispered.

“Not really, but she’s very fond of them.”

“I’ll buy some new ones. There’s a flowershop right next to the post office, right?”

“Hurry up, before she comes home.”

Fuji now joined them. “Should I leave?”

“No,” Shiraishi said quickly and then glared at his schoolmate. “I mean, I know where Koharu lives. I walk you there if my mother kills him.”

“Okay, I get it, let’s go Yuuji.” They opened the fence of the garden and scrambled off. 

“Do you want to see some photos?” Yukari suddenly asked.

Shiraishi turned with a shock. “Don’t even think about it.”

“Photography is a hobby of mine,” Fuji cut in. “I would love to.”

She had already run inside. Fuji sat down in the grass. “This garden is nice too, less dangerous, though.”

“You really don’t want to see those photos.”

“Oh?” Fuji looked mildly surprised, but Shiraishi had a feeling that he was enjoying this.

Yukari came back, holding the books with one hand. “Brother, come here for a moment.”

“Yes?” he said, when they were out of Fuji’s earshot.

“If you don’t want me to show the worst ones, make Fuji-san stay for dinner.”

“He might have other plans. I don’t want to…”

She held up the green album, which was filled with pictures of him participating in a school play, covered with slime.

“Okay, okay!” He held his hand up in defeat and then walked over where the other boy sat. “Fuji, you want to stay for dinner?”

“If that doesn’t inconvenience you?”

Shiraishi shook his head, with a glance at Yukari, who had now taken the green book back inside.

“Thanks, I will.”

They spent a nice afternoon after that, drinking juice in the garden. Koharu and Yuuji showed up and planted the replacements right before his mother got home.

He could immediately tell his mother was charmed by Fuji’s manner. She invited Koharu and Yuuji for dinner as well, but they were probably scared she would discover what happened to the plants and declined quickly.

“Did you prepare anything?” his mother asked her children.

“Eh, I thought sister was going to do it,” Yukari said.

“She’s staying over with a friend, studying,” their mother said. “Shall I order some sushi?”

“Maybe, if you don’t mind, I can prepare something,” Fuji offered. “A friend of mine has given me some recipes, I would like to try them.”

“Eh, nothing too spicy, okay?” Shiraishi said, who had heard a little about Fuji’s culinary preferences.

“No problem. I’ll just be off to buy some things.”

When Fuji had gone, his mother beamed at him. “I didn’t know there were people like that at your school.”

“Actually he’s from Tokyo. I played him in the semi-finals,” Shiraishi said.

“Ah, that explains something. Be nice to him, then.”

Shiraishi nodded and glanced at his watch. Maybe he should not have let Fuji gone by himself. It was a strange city, after all.

Fortunately, he appeared again in a quarter of an hour and let Yukari direct him to the kitchen. Shiraishi, who was always kept out of the kitchen for some mysterious reason –his mother swore it was not because of his plants-, stayed in the living room. He hoped Yukari wouldn’t tell him too many embarrassing stories.

When they finally reappeared, Fuji was holding a pot filled with all kinds of vegetables, while Yukari brought in a salad.

“We’re finished,” his sister announced.

“It smells great,” Shiraishi’s mother said.

Fuji smiled. “Credit should go to Tachibana Kippei. He’s the captain of one of the teams beaten by Shitenhouji.”

“You are friends with him?” Shiraishi asked.

“I guess you can call it that by now,” Fuji said, thoughtfully. “I wonder how he’s doing.”

A little jealous, Shiraishi sat down. Something in the way Fuji talked about their friendship made it seem something special seemed to be going on between the two of them.

The food was delicious though and Fuji most charming to his mother and sister. It was clear his mother was comparing him to Shiraishi’s schoolmates, because she kept saying how composed he was compared to her son’s teammates. Shiraishi remembered how Fuji had screamed furiously during their match, but said nothing and enjoyed his Greek Salad mostly in silence.

“Will you watch cartoons with us?” Yukari asked, after they had finished their food.

“I’m sorry, but I don’t want to worry Koharu’s parents. They told me I’m free to go where I want, but I don’t want to take it too far.”

“Fuji-kun, I’m a little embarrassed that you had to cook at your first dinner in our house,” his mother said. “What with my husband’s weird hours we’re a little unconventional when it comes to dinner.”

“It was my pleasure cooking for you. Everyone in Osaka has been so nice to me.”

“I’ll walk you to Koharu’s,” Shiraishi said, heading for the hallway. He had the feeling that someone as intelligent as Fuji could probably make his own way back, but the other boy didn’t protest.

His teammate’s house was only a few streets away, but that was time enough for an enjoyable walk. Fuji was strolling next to him, sometimes pointing out interesting objects for a picture, like a bird fleeing a cat and the quaint little house at the corner of Shiraishi’s street.

Shiraishi glanced at the other boy from time to time. He sure was pretty with those delicate features and flashing blue eyes. A bit of a breeze set up and played with his brown hair.

“I’ve worked further on my counters,” Fuji said softly. “I would like to play you sometime while I’m here.”

“Sure.”

“But I want to ask you something. Just play me as you feel you should, not just because you feel you have to beat me.”

“You want me to lose?”

“No. Well, not on purpose.” Fuji chuckled. “I just want to see you enjoy tennis.”

Shiraishi stopped walking. “How do you know I don’t?”

“Your eyes.” Fuji turned to look up at them. “You looked so sad that day, even though you had won.”

There was a moment of quiet. The wind picked up and swirled around them. Shiraishi sighed, wondering what it would be like to kiss this boy, have his arms wrapped around him.

“Hey, long time!”

Behind them Chitose had suddenly appeared, sauntering with a basket filled with apples in his hand.

Shiraishi felt a little annoyed. Chitose was his friend, but he had disrupted something.

“Nice to see you again,” Fuji said politely. “You played a good match.”

“Your Tezuka too,” he said with a strong look at the smaller boy.

Shiraishi looked from one to the other, but Fuji seemed a little puzzled as well. Then he smiled and nodded at Shiraishi. “Thanks for your hospitality, but from here on I can find my own way back.”

“You can come over any time,” Shiraishi said quickly. “Koharu has my phonenumber.”

“I’ll send you a message later,” Fuji said.

“Bye then.”

“Goodbye.”

When Fuji had turned the corner, Shiraishi adjusted his bandages. “Is there something you want to say?”

The tall boy leaned against a tree. “You’re attracted to him, aren’t you?”

“So?”

“Just be careful, Kuranosuke.”

Shiraishi glared up at him. “Why?”

“I know someone who had a thing for him as well, but he got nowhere in the end. The boy has too many unresolved issues with one of his teammates.”

“Is that why you brought up Tezuka?” Shiraishi snorted. “He had time enough to try something. Fuji is here now.”

Chitose shrugged his shoulders. “Do whatever you want. Just thought I should warn you.”

“Thanks a lot,” he said sarcastically and then he glanced in the direction in which Fuji had disappeared. “But I’m going to give it a shot.”


	2. Chapter 2

The next Monday he had lunch with a few of his classmates. Mizuki was wolfing down her food. She took her sumo classes very seriously and had already gained quite some weight in the last couple of weeks.

Shiraishi leaned back against his chair, starting on his noodles while the Nakamura twins were bickering about who did the best in English class.

Fuji walked into the canteen by himself. He got a tray and picked rice, miso soup and a salad. He was wearing their school uniform now, but it seemed a little too big for his small frame. He took a glass of orange juice and paid.

Then he looked around. Only one table was unoccupied and he began to make his way over to it. Shiraishi waved at him. “Fuji!”

The boy from Tokyo looked up and then smiled.

“Come, sit over here,” Shiraishi gestured at the table.

All three of his classmates turned quiet and stared at the newcomer.

Fuji seemed to hesitate, so Shiraishi waved once more. “It’s okay.”

Mizuki’s eyes narrowed as he sat down, but before she could make any of her snide remarks, Fuji gave a nod with his head.

“Pleased to meet you, my name is Fuji Sysuke.”

His voice and manner caught her somewhat unawares. “Eh, I’m…”

“You are going to compete in the next sumo championship, right? Mizuki Keiko, I have heard about you.”

“Ah, did you? Well, you are famous here as well, for having been beaten by Shiraishi here.”

“Mizuki,” Shiraishi warned.

“Don’t think that just because you’re from Tokyo, you can lord it over us,”

“Oh, I don’t judge people by their locality,” Fuji said, giving the boy a piercing look. “Hospitality and manners are a lot more important.”

Both the twins glared back. “What do you mean by that?”

“As I say it.”

“You’ve got quite some nerve, little boy, to try to challenge us like this. Perhaps if we threw you around a little…”

Shiraishi flared up, glaring down at him. “Touch him and you're not going to like what will happen.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” the boy mumbled, but he didn’t meet his eyes.

“Really?” Shiraishi leaned closer to his ear. “I’ll cut one of these off, then nobody can mistake one for the other anymore.”

“We’re sorry, okay?!”

“Geez, what attitude,” his brother let out, but both stood up quickly and left.

Mizuki looked amused, but Shiraishi turned for Fuji. “I’m really sorry about this. They are really harmless, just watched too many cartoons.”

“They didn’t intimidate me,” Fuji said and then smiled up at him. “But thanks for sticking up for me.”

Pleased, Shiraishi sat down again.

“You also want to beat me up?” Fuji asked sweetly, looking at the girl.

Mizuki grinned. “Not today.”

“Good,” he said and then finally started on his rice.

*

They had free practice that afternoon. Fuji spent it teaching a few freshmen not to be afraid of where the ball might land. He was patient and funny, making them trust him quickly. It helped that he was famous, from the team that had won the Nationals.

Shiraishi waited for Fuji until he was finished changing and then asked, “Do you want to do some homework together?”

“Yeah, that be nice. What with all the preparations for coming here, I’m a little behind, especially chemistry.”

“Oh? That’s my best subject,” Shiraishi said.

Fuji’s eyes lit up. “Great, then… where shall we go?”

“How about the park near Koharu’s house?”

Half an hour later they were sitting underneath an old tree, books open, with Fuji looking on as Shiraishi wrote down a formula.

“You’re very good at it. Is it because of your plants?” Fuji asked.

“My father is a pharmacist,” Shiraishi explained. “I used to play in the apothecary.”

“Really? Inui would have loved that.”

“Are you good friends with him? You mention him a lot.”

“We get along well, but we’re not that close,” Fuji said, taking his notebook and studying the formula. “I guess the one I hang out the most with is Eiji.”

“Kikumaru? But isn’t he always with Oishi?”

“We’re classmates and we played doubles together in the Kantou semi-finals,” Fuji said. “But I guess his bond with Oishi is deeper, yes.”

Shiraishi was quiet for a few moments. He and most of his team had suspected this so called Golden Pair for a while now of being more than friends. Had they not had such a glaringly homosexual doubles team themselves, they would probably have gossiped about them a lot more.

“What about Koshi--- I mean, Echizen?”

Fuji smiled then. “You can always count on him to stir things up.”

“And Tezuka?” He had meant to sound casually, but the mood changed.

“Tezuka?” Fuji asked, looking him in the eyes.

“Yes, eh… do you get along with him as well?”

“He’s our captain,” Fuji said evasively.

“That’s no answer.”

“Why do you want to know?”

“I was just making conversation, but now I’m getting quite curious,” Shiraishi pointed out.

Fuji shoved a little away from him. “Without reason.”

“He is special to you, isn’t he?” Shiraishi pressed on, ignoring his denials.

Fuji began collecting his things. “It’s getting dark, time to go home.”

But Shiraishi was having none of it. Not knowing what was going on between Fuji and his captain was driving him crazy.

“Is there trouble between you? Is that why you came to Osaka?”

“I came to Osaka because I wanted to learn from your school, and I used to think you were all nice people.”

“Oh, really? And it had nothing to do with running away from him?” Shiraishi accused.

Suddenly Fuji’s eyes flew open. “Tezuka is not interested in me. Is that what you wanted to know?”

He jumped up then and without a last glance, he stalked off.

Shiraishi sat there, stunned and mortified at what he had done. He hardly knew Fuji, but had forced him to reveal his most personal feelings like this. Even if he had a slim chance before, he had now spoiled it. He sighed, angry with himself. Fuji had looked so upset…

Then he was annoyed with Tezuka as well. He had seen how Seigaku’s captain had looked at Fuji and it hadn’t been entirely the detached look that he meant to convey. If Tezuka had rejected him, it had probably been out of a sense of duty, not lack of interest.

Finally he picked himself up and strode home. Tezuka and he both were idiots.

*

Fuji pretty much ignored him for the next couple of days. He followed directions during practice, but he not once looked straight at him.

At first Shiraishi wondered if it was not all for the best. If Fuji still was hung up on Tezuka, he’d better leave him alone. But then he remembered what he himself had said to Chitose. Fuji was here now and Tezuka had had his chance. It was his turn now and an opportunity like this would not come again soon.

His attempts to apologize all came to nothing. Every time he headed in Fuji’s direction, he somehow disappeared or, once, started a discussion with their drama teacher about Shakespeare. He had waited then, not wanting to give up so quickly, but he knew he had lost when Fuji asked her to come with him to the library to check one of the lines in Othello. They had walked straight passed him, deep in discussion, without so much as looking at him. Of course he could try to call, but he was pretty sure Fuji wouldn’t pick up. 

So on Thursday evening, he knocked on Koharu’s door. His team-mate opened it himself, for once dressed in normal clothes.

“Hey.”

“Hey, is Fuji at home?”

“He’s reading or something.”

Shiraishi undid the laces of his shoes and grabbed a pair of slippers.

“He’s been a little quiet lately, has nothing to do with you, hmm?” their data-player suggested.

He considered lying, but knew he wouldn’t be able to fool this boy. “I’ll make it right, okay?”

Koharu frowned. “He’s in the guest room.”

“Kay.”

He made his way up the stairs and then knocked at the door.

“Yes?”

It was a small room, stuffed with boxes full of Koharu’s costumes. Fuji was sitting on the bed, with some textbooks on the floor next to him.

“Oh,” he let out when he saw Shiraishi.

“Can I come in?” he asked him.

The other boy shrugged.

Shiraishi closed the door behind him and then walked to where Fuji sat. “I’m sorry about prying in your personal life. I had no right to.”

Fuji was looking weary, like he was a little afraid that painful things would be brought up again. Perhaps Shiraishi should go with the truth. He sat down on the bed, but a good distance away from Fuji to not make him feel uncomfortable.

“I never played a match like ours. After that, I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”

“You mean: the match?” Fuji suggested.

“No.” Shiraishi met his eyes. “I mean you.”

Fuji’s lips parted. “Oh.”

“You can tell me now if you don’t care for me that way,” he babbled on. “Heck, I wouldn’t be surprised after how I acted if you don’t even want to talk to me.”

“Then why did you?” Fuji asked softly.

He looked away. “I guess I was jealous.”

Fuji was about to say something, when Yuuji suddenly stormed in. “Fuji-san, please help me! Koharu thinks I am dating someone else. He never wants to see me again!!”

“Yuuji,” Shiraishi said sharply. 

“Oh, hey Shiraishi.” Yuuji said distracted and then looked at Fuji. “Please, talk to him! He listens to you!”

“Just give me a moment,” Fuji said. “I’ll join you in a minute.”

Yuuji looked from Shiraishi to Fuji and then nodded. “Hurry.”

After he closed the door behind him again, Fuji smiled at him. “Sorry about that.”

“They’re my teammates, I should be the one apologizing,” Shiraishi pointed out. Still, he was glad for the interruption, because it had lifted the mood.

“Shiraishi…” Fuji then said.

He stood up. “You don’t have to say anything. I was just acting like an idiot with a little crush. I hope you can forget about it.”

“I was actually hoping you could take me to Nara this weekend.”

“Eh…?” Shiraishi let out.

“Eiji and Oishi had a good time there and I would like to take a look as well. Perhaps you can show me?”

“Sure, but…”

“I’d like to get to know you better,” Fuji said agreeably.

“Ah…” Realization dawned on Shiraishi and he smiled a little smugly. “Leave it all up to me.”

“Great.” Fuji stood up as well. “Now, if you don’t mind, I have some star-crossed lovers to reconcile.”

*

Fuji had waited for him at the subway just after noon. They had been able to get a seat and talked pleasantly on their way to the smaller city. It had been a good day: a little sun, but not too hot. He had already seen the sights several times, so he could tell Fuji about him. Talking to the other boy was always interesting. He often came up with unexpected ideas and observations, made him rethink some things about Kansai’s history.

Shiraishi had prepared some sandwiches, which they shared on a little bench. He put his arm on the bench, right behind Fuji. In reaction Fuji turned towards him, not away, their faces almost touching.

“These are really good,” Fuji said, after finishing one with pesto. “Thanks.”

“No problem.”

Fuji studied his face for a moment and then lifted his hand. His fingers gently wiped the crumbs from his cheek. Shiraishi held his breath, the urge to kiss him was strong, but there were too many people around.

“Shall we walk?” Fuji asked then.

He just nodded.

The trees around them were pretty, some of them already coloring red. A gentle breeze set up.

“A good day for your tennis,” Shiraishi commented.

There was a warm smile on Fuji’s face as he nodded. “We should play soon.”

Shiraishi took his fingers between his own and squeezed them softly, before letting go again. Now Fuji walked even closer next to him. It was getting later and there were not that many tourists any more. There was a fork in the road, on the right side a small path that led up a slope.

As they made their way up, Fuji took his hand again when Shiraishi pulled him up a rather high rock. At the top they had a nice view of a small pond. Insects were chirping around them. Nobody who could see them.

For a while they stood there, enjoying the view.

“It’s so nice,” Fuji whispered.

Shiraishi laid his hand on Fuji’s shoulder, playing with a strand of his hair. “Yes.”

Fuji turned to him and held his gaze a few seconds, before reaching up.

Their lips met in a short, shy kiss. Shiraishi stepped closer. Fuji’s hand came to rest at the back of his neck. Again they kissed, this time a little longer. Fuji sighed a little. His body was warm against his own. Shiraishi’s hand disappeared under his shirt at the back. Their kiss deepened as he rubbed the smaller boy’s skin with his fingers. It was so smooth and soft. Who would have guessed Fuji had been one of the most feared tennis players in the Nationals?

Fuji broke the kiss, let his lips trail down Shiraishi’s neck. He was kissed then, a long, lingering touch that strongly aroused him. Breathing quickly now, he began to undo the buttons of Fuji’s shirt, wanting more, reason fleeing.

“Shiraishi,” Fuji whispered. “We shouldn’t. Not here… we just…”

It didn’t help that Fuji did little else to dispel the moment, his body still tightly pressed against his own.

But Shiraishi now remembered some reason. They had only just kissed for the first time, it would probably not be a good idea to do who knows what on this hill.

With effort, he stepped back, creating distance between them. Fuji’s face was flushed, his hair messy and shirt half opened. Shiraishi quickly looked away, before he would grab him again.

Fuji began to button up. “I didn’t think we would do something like this.”

“I would do a lot more some day,” Shiraishi promised. “If you let me.”

A sexy smile appeared on Fuji’s face that took his breath away. “Let’s go home.”

They were a lot quieter on the way back, but their relationship had changed and an intimacy was now possible that had not been there before. Fuji leaned against him in the crowded subway, giving Shiraishi the opportunity to protect him from being pushed about.

Shiraishi walked him to Koharu’s house, pausing before Fuji unlocked the door.

“I want to kiss you again.”

It was almost dark and nobody else walked in the street, but Fuji glanced around nervously. “Someone might see.”

“This is Koharu’s house. The neighbors must be used to a lot more than a simple kiss.”

Fuji’s eyes narrowed. “Simple?”

Before Shiraishi knew what hit him, Fuji had pulled him closer and their lips met in a fierce kiss. He could feel those slender fingers moving over his back and then down. Fuji rubbed against him through their clothes. Shiraishi broke the kiss and moaned, trying to pull him closer, but Fuji stepped out of his reach.

“See you later, Kuranosuke.”

Before he knew what happened, the door was open and Fuji disappeared through. He stood alone in front of Koharu’s front door, slightly disorientated.

“Wow,” he let out.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have never gone as long between updates for a story, but the wonderful Imperfekti convinced me to post. 
> 
> The truth is that I had the chapter on my computer for a very long time, but was not entirely happy with it. I changed it and added a lot, so now I was :)

The following few days passed by like a dream. There was the normal school and practice, but Shiraishi saw life in a distinctively different way. Everything was wonderful with Fuji, even glimpsing him across the hallway between classes. The best were the stolen moments, in the park or at Koharu’s house, when they would kiss and make out. Fuji was bold most of the time, but sometimes he would smile shyly, driving Shiraishi mad with desire. Their touches went further every time.

On the Thursday after their trip to Nara, in between classes, Shiraishi entered Fuji’s classroom. A stuffed elephant toy flew right over him, but he paid it no heed. Fuji was looking through his bag, but looked up when Shiraishi approached his desk and smiled.

“Will you come to my house today?” Shiraishi asked.

“Yes.”

He smiled back. “Great.”

The girl sitting next to Fuji looked from one to the other. “Are you going to play tennis?”

“Not today. We’re just going to…study.”

“I thought you were great rivals or something.”

“And now we’re friends too,” Fuji said.

“Uh-huh.”

But Shiraishi did not care about her suspicions. The girl was a good observer and quite curious, but not a gossip.

“See you later,” Fuji said.

Shiraishi nodded and returned to his classroom filled with excitement. He barely heard a word his teacher said during the lesson.

During practice, he had Fuji take care of the freshmen. They were in awe of the national champion teaching them, but Fuji reassured them and soon they had fun playing doubles. He let them play the best out of three games before giving the next pairs a chance.

Fuji stepped in after four such rounds and joined up with the shy Yoshida. Shiraishi saw how Fuji supported him, taking any shots that were out of his league, but allowing Yoshida to feel like he was the most important player of the two.

He couldn’t help but wish Fuji’s stay in Osaka would be permanent.

Zaizen frowned. “I thought we were going to play a game.”

“Of course,” Shiraishi said. “I just wanted to see how they would cope.”

“Right.”

Shiraishi quickly started the match, but his mind was elsewhere.

He changed quickly, before some people had even left the courts. His parents were always late on Thursday and Yukari tended to stay with the neighbors when they weren’t there. The kindly old lady next to them, had been a primary school teacher and was an excellent tutor.

Shiraishi and Fuji walked home. They spoke little, but there arms touched and Shiraishi was very tempted to take his hand.

The house was indeed empty when they arrived. Replacing their shoes for slippers, they headed upstairs.

Reaching for his hand, Shiraishi was about to kiss him, but Fuji stepped back. “Lie down on the bed.”

Shiraishi’s eyes widened.

“Do it.”

There was a command in Fuji’s voice that he felt compelled to follow. He sat down on the bed and lay back. His heart beat in his chest and he was quite aware of how fast he was breathing already.

Fuji pushed Shiraishi down and straddled him. With an agonizingly slow pace, he opened his own shirt and started caressing himself. Entranced, Shiraishi reached out, but his wrists were pushed down on the bed firmly. “Keep them there.”

Shiraishi lay there, frustrated as Fuji wriggled on top of him. A moan escaped his lips. He wanted so much to touch him.

Right when he thought he couldn’t take anymore, Fuji leaned over and kissed his ear.

“Can I?” he whispered.

That small hand was on the waistband of Shiraishi’s pants, fingers caressing him right through it.

He nodded breathlessly and threw back his head when they finally touched his naked flesh. He lost himself completely in Fuji’s touch. The other boy was still breathing close to his ear and bit it softly.

It felt so much better than when he did this himself. Fuji’s warmth, his body on top of him, turned him on more than he had ever been before. He ached to flip Fuji over and have his way with him, but he controlled himself and just enjoyed the ever increasing pleasure.

Fuji pinched a nipple through his shirt. Shiraishi’s eyes flew open and his back arched up. He whispered Fuji’s name when he came.

Panting, he fell back, eyes still open in surprise at the intensity of what he felt.Fuji pressed closer to him, eyes dark with desire, but they both turned at sound of the front door opening. The happy chatter of his father and sister broke the spell. Yukari would probably come up quickly.

Fuji and Shiraishi shared a look and Fuji bit his own lip. He was far from satisfied.

“I’m sorry,” Shiraishi whispered. “I thought we had at least an hour or two.”

Fuji shook his head. “It’s okay. I’ll just go home quickly.”

Shiraishi reached for him, their lips just met, but the sounds of his father climbing the stairs stopped them from doing even that. Fuji got up, readjusted his clothes, as Shiraishi quickly reached for tissues.

“Goodbye,” Fuji whispered and slipped out the room. His father had gone to his own room and the brunet was not spotted by any of his family members as he left the house.

A bit frustrated, but not as much as he knew Fuji must be, Shiraishi closed his eyes and stayed on his bed for quite a while.

During morning practice the next day Shiraishi made a point of helping Fuji with his sit-ups.

“Sorry about yesterday,” he said. “I’ll make it up to you.”

“It’s okay, I just spent a long time in the shower,” Fuji whispered.

The idea of the smaller boy touching himself under the steaming water was enough to make Shiraishi aroused again. There was little else but Fuji he thought of that day and did not realize others started to notice. It was of course Zaizen who had to call attention to it at afternoon practice.

“Captain!” He yelled from the other side of the court just after afternoon practice had begun. “Why do you spend more time with an outsider than with your own team-mates?”

Shiraishi, who had again found it very necessary to help Fuji with his sit-ups, straightened himself. “You should work on your stamina, I hardly thought you needed my help with that.”

“I don’t need help.” Zaizen crossed his arms. “But a lot of these losers do.”

He threw a pointed look at Kenya, who glared back in his direction. “We’re still older than you. Learn some respect.”

“Ha! I only respect those who are worthy. I beat you just last week.”

“That was just a practice match!” Kenya screamed, pacing in Zaizen’s direction.

“Now calm down and…” Ishida tried to cut in, but his voice got lost in the quarrel.

Shiraishi quickly ran over, just in time to stop Zaizen from saying something else by holding a hand over his mouth. Zaizen gestured furiously, but Shiraishi made sure that he remained in between them.

“This is enough. Both of you, come with me.”

“But Kura…”

“No. This is still a court, not a boxing ring. Out. Now!”

They kept quiet as they followed him off the court and into the school. Shiraishi quickly glanced around and then went into an empty classroom. The moment he closed the door behind him, they started arguing again.

“Just stop and listen!” Shiraishi shouted.

“Why should we listen to you?” Kenya suddenly erupted. “You haven’t acted like our captain since that Tokyo boy came here.”

Shiraishi frowned. “I haven’t…”

“The moron is right,” Zaizen cut in. “You want to tell us how to behave, while you follow him like a puppy.”

A moment passed, before Shiraishi said quietly: “Is that what it seems like?”

Zaizen seemed taken aback by this display of vulnerability of his captain. “Well, eh… I didn’t entirely…”

“We are just worried, Kuranosuke,” Kenya said. “He’s going back to Tokyo ten days from now. And then what? He will soon forget about you once he sees his teammates again. Yuushi told me…”

“I don’t give a shit about what ‘Yuushi’ told you!” Shiraishi burst out. “What does he know? He doesn’t even go to Seigaku!”

Zaizen’s mouth actually opened in shock. Never before had Shiraishi been this angry with him.

“Hyotei is near Seigaku.” Kenya said. “They have matches all the time. You only played Fuji once, what do you know about him?”

Shiraishi shook his head. “And how can I change that if I always keep my distance?”

“Why would you want to change that?” Zaizen asked crossly. “It’s not like you don’t have enough friends here.”

Shiraishi shrugged his shoulders. He didn’t plan to tell him that he and Fuji were already more than that. Or perhaps… less than that.

“Well, it seems that you are pissed with me now instead of each other,” he said with a fake smile. “Behave yourselves from now on.”

Nobody spoke as they trooped back to the court. Shiraishi felt cross with his team mates though, because they seemed to think his whole world was supposed to evolve around them. And, he recognized, because they had sown a seed of doubt. They resumed practice again, but this time Shiraishi kept well away from Fuji.

He changed quickly without looking at or talking with anyone and sat down on the bench. There were still a few forms he needed to fill in related to two new members of the team. It took him about half an hour before he had gathered all the information and finally finished it.

When he got out of the club room, he saw Fuji waiting for him.

“Hey,” he said, smiling.

Shiraishi turned his face away and muttered something.

“I thought perhaps we could play tennis tomorrow evening: when there is nobody else here.”

He shrugged his shoulders.

“Is something wrong?” Fuji asked.

Shiraishi made the mistake of looking at him. Seeing the worry on his face made all his determination to create some distance between them disappear.

He attempted to smile. “Just a little tired.”

“I promised to wait for you, remember? Do you want me to go?”

“No.” He shook his head. “No!”

The school grounds were deserted. Quickly he threw his bag down and took the other boy in his arms, burying his face in light brown hair. “You smell nice.”

“Just showered, used new shampoo,” Fuji mumbled against his neck and looked up at him, worries now gone. “Kuranosuke.”

Shiraishi kissed him, encouraged by Fuji’s hands roaming up and down his back. Any thoughts of keeping him at arms-length far from his mind now.

Just as he was about to push him against a tree and ravish him, Fuji’s hand stopped him. “I promised Koharu’s mother I would cook today.”

“Stay a little longer,” Shiraishi implored.

“I wish I could, but I’m already late.” Fuji took up his bag and promised: “Tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're interested in more Shiraishi/Fuji: in my Kuroko no Basket story 'And Back Again', Shiraishi and Fuji make cameo appearances in chapters 17 and 21. They are in their second year of high school there.
> 
>  
> 
> **Next time: Shiraishi and Fuji have their match.**


	4. Chapter 4

The wind blew again, strong enough to keep many people inside their homes. Shiraishi had suggested to postpone their match, but Fuji had laughed and taken him to Shitenhouji’s courts.

The atmosphere was entirely different from when he practiced here with his team. No laughter and yelling, but trees that struggled against the wind. It was like he had stepped into a different world now; where only Fuji and the match were important.

“5 sets?” Fuji suggested, throwing up the ball.

“Yeah.”

It was the last time they spoke for a good while. No need to write down the score. They served and changed courts on cue.

Half way through the first set, he understood what Fuji was doing. Staying slightly below Shiraishi’s level, he increased his attack whenever Shiraishi spurred up his own; driving him to ever higher levels of skill and speed.

Rain fell on them. Enough to darken the skies so that he had to squint his eyes to see the ball.

Shiraishi knew Fuji did not need his sight to play, and he cursed when the ball flew well past him; too far to reach in time.

He glanced at his opponent. Fuji smiled; but not in that pleasant way that fooled so many. If he had been a wolf, he would have bared his teeth.

Elated, Shiraishi grabbed the ball from the floor and swung his racket so hard that Fuji could not return it.

Every point was a battle, every game a war that etched itself into Shiraishi’s memory.

He took the first set, barely, but knew what would come next. No more holding back from Fuji and he was smashed out by such a whirlwind of varying attacks. He could just win three games in the next.

Fuji’s smile turned feral as he served again, smashing the ball right past his face.

“Kirihara’s?” Shiraishi queried breathlessly.

“I adapted it.”

Shiraishi now saw what few fully understood; that Fuji was always holding back his true, dangerous self. He laughed, excited beyond words at the challenge and spent the next few games getting the hang of Fuji’s violent shots.

And just when he did, Fuji changed them. He hit the ball more gently, making it curve in angles Shiraishi could not predict. Fuji jumped, gliding through the air when Shiraishi finally got one, and used Tezuka’s drop shot.

Shiraishi tore off his bandage. Fuji’s eyes narrowed when he let the gold fall at the edge of the court.

“You played me with a handicap?”

“I…”

But Fuji looked so furious that Shiraishi lost the rest of his sentence.

Fuji’s shots became even more precise, as if he aimed to taunt him. Shiraishi did not mind, found the high level challenge exhilarating. He saw Fuji evolving right in front of him, making his counters more precise and testing new shots.

It forced him to evolve with him, to close any holes in his defense that Fuji had torn in. When the clouds rolled and thunder started, they did not notice at first. Shiraishi was only focused on Fuji’s overwhelming brilliance on the court.

Lightning struck. Smoke erupted. Shiraishi let the ball fly past him as his eyes widened. The large tree right behind Fuji was on fire.

He reacted in a split second and jumped over the net. Within an instant, he was with Fuji.

“Kuranosuke?”

“Run!”

Arm protectively around Fuji, Shiraishi led him off the court, towards the school. Another strike of thunder, frighteningly nearby.

The door was locked and he fumbled with the keys, nervous, deadly afraid Fuji would get hurt. When he finally unlocked the door, he pulled Fuji in and slunk down in the hallway.

Fuji sat down next to him. They were both drenched and exhausted from playing such a match in terrible weather.

“Thank you,” Fuji whispered, hugging him, burying his face against his neck.

Overwhelmed with emotions, Shiraishi held him. “I was afraid that… I was afraid for you.”

“I did not even realize.” Fuji kissed his shoulder. “You are a magnificent player.”

Shiraishi closed his eyes. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“One more week,” Fuji said.

“Yes.” Shiraishi tried to push away the bittersweet feeling that welled up in him.

Fuji caressed his wet hair. “You’re cold.”

“So are you.” Shiraishi stood up. “We need to change or we’ll get really sick. You can wait here if you want.”

Fuji shook his head and got up to follow him. Shiraishi entered the drama classroom. Most costumes were locked away in closets, but a few boxes stood open. He found a few rubber alien skins that would be of no use, but below that were a dress and a few doublets.

Gratefully, he got rid of his wet shirt and dried himself with a few tissues he found on the table. He stared when Fuji pulled off his own shirt. Hair dripping, and body still tensed from the match, he was the most appealing sight Shiraishi had ever seen.

Fuji’s eyes met his and the brunet gasped when he saw how the other boy looked at him. Shiraishi moved first, catching him in his arms, kissing him fiercely.

Fuji returned his passion. Encouraged, Shiraishi pushed him back against the wall. One of Fuji’s legs came up, hooking itself behind Shiraishi’s knee.

A hand slid under Shiraishi’s shirt, exploring, turning him on even more.

“Do you want me?” Fuji whispered, rubbing his body against his.

“Yes,” Shiraishi breathed. “Fuck, yes.”

Instead of putting them on to wear, Shiraishi spread the clothes on the floor and lowered Fuji on them. As he looked down on him, he suddenly did not feel cold.

He kneeled between his legs and licked up the rain from his skin. Fuji's breath hitched.

"Kuranosuke, I want..."

"We can't." Shiraishi got off him as he came to this realization. "I don't want to take you on the floor like this."

Fuji blinked, confused for a moment by the sudden change in mood.

"I will book us a hotel room for next weekend. We can go to Kyoto or anywhere else you like."

A smile appeared on Fuji's face, so bright that he had to look away.

"You are very considerate, Kuranosuke."

He shrugged. "You deserve to be treated with regard."

Fuji sat up and hugged him from behind. "I am glad I came here."

Shiraishi took his hand and brought it to his lips. "Me too."

They stayed sitting there for quite a while, careful not to tempt each other too much, but still reluctant to part. At some point Fuji ended up in Shiraishi's lap, falling asleep in his arms. Shiraishi draped a doublet over him, so he would not catch a cold. Patiently, he waited until the storm had eased.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shiraishi has to go abroad to arrange a tournament, but Fuji is gone when he comes back.


End file.
